


Child of Blood

by Corgi



Category: Hellsing
Genre: More tags to be added, Multi, Other, this is the love child of my adoration for hellsing and the characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 15:11:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14108094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corgi/pseuds/Corgi
Summary: Being the heir to a legacy is never exactly an easy task. Being the heir to a legacy paved with blood and magic and darkness is arguably even harder. That doesn't mean it's impossible though.Charlotte is the heir to a legacy of such description, and whilst she may be young; she's certainly hoping she's prepared for anything that might be thrown at her.





	Child of Blood

In the middle of the countryside sat a house. It hadn't been lived in for years, the previous tenant having died alone. Well, not alone. She'd never been alone, not since she'd been eleven. She might have been the only one alive, but death for her had never held much meaning. Her death, however, had ended some practices for a while. The Crown's use of the undead to do the dirty work. 

That's not to say that the bloodline had died out, oh no, not at all. The purest blood had diluted down without a true heir, until a child was born to the youngest daughter of the family. No longer the last in her line, Isabella had rejoiced, knowing that the burden of her ancestors would never have to rest on her own shoulders. The first child had grown up without the love of her mother, having to shoulder expectations that shouldn't be placed on one so young. 

So young. So young. 

A pity really, when an innocent child is forced to open their eyes to the true horrors of the world. The true monsters that walked the night. 

No one had lived in that house for years because no one had been deemed worthy. She'd never wanted to touch the place, knowing that once she did she'd no longer be able to call herself a child. There were monsters in that house that were waiting for her to wake them up. Nightmares that called to her, the 'saviours' of the London incident that screamed her name in the night. 

Grandmother had never really known her nephew. Once Arthur had been born she'd been all but shunned from the family. On the odd occasion that Isabella could face her eldest daughter, bring herself away from her perfect little life and her perfect two children (three really, including her elder daughter) she could talk about her cousin. Although, she'd never know her very well, she seemed to know a lot about her, "A beautiful lady," She'd fantasize, "Oh, how I wish I could have had such a lovely lady for a daughter." 

She wouldn't rise to that. 

She never did. 

"Soft brown skin, gorgeous blonde hair." She'd dream, hazed expression in her eyes. Her daughter would gaze at her dubiously, 'so lovely, so mature' for a 15-year-old. The tea that they shared never lasted long, she'd be too disgusted to deal with her mother for too long. Her father she could tolerate; he liked her more, talked to her more, but he never understood her. He'd go along with Isabella's perfect little family image, and although his eldest loved him, she perhaps pitied him more. Not as much as she pitied her younger brother and sister, not as much as she loved them either. They understood her more, perhaps, but they stayed quiet. She didn't blame them. They were lucky. 

They could stay innocent. 

The Convention of Twelve (Eleven for the time being) had assigned her a nanny -butler, he'd insist - to care for her once she'd turned 16, and although she often put on a face she'd cared for him like he was family. Given that she'd never had much of one to begin with, he accepted it (he liked her just as much after all). 

Sometimes, they visited the house. They'd never go inside, they wouldn't dare, but she'd sit in the car and gaze up at it. It sat there unchanging. Until one day, when they visited, and the house was alive with people. She'd gotten out, and inquired as to what they were doing but they'd bowed and welcomed her as the master of the house. The butler made them explain. 

"Well, orders are that we're to clean the place and live here indefinitely. Once the young miss turns 17, she'll be joining us and taking over the estate." One of them had replied, and she'd raised an eyebrow and asked who'd issue such an order. The response came in the form of a letter the following day. 

Dear the Young Miss, it addressed, and that irked her somewhat. The house that belonged to your predecessor has lived uninhabited long enough. It is by Her Majesty's Will that you are to live there once you come of age. Her words are, and I quote, "Such a fine estate deserves to be cared and tended to by a fine master. I hope that you can become such a person." Conformational orders come from the Round Table and as the Young Miss isn't a legal adult; Oh, sometimes they were just tempting fate. Permission to move has been given by the parents. 

She crumpled the letter in her fist and threw it into the fireplace, and taken her anger out on some sword practice. The Butler had given her a small smirk and denied all accusations that he had knowledge of the event. (She didn't know if he was telling the truth, even then.) Eventually, she confronted her parents about the whole matter and sat, silent as they tried to explain that they loved her and just wanted the best for her. While her father looked truly earnest, her mother had a snide look in her eyes. Although she wanted to shout and scream back at them, she knew better and accepted their comments. 

Out of spite, she changed her last name to the family name legally, so it felt like less of a lie when she introduced herself. And, though she was known by her family's name, she was sure not to let it define her. Hellsing by blood, Hellsing by nature, her Majesty told her. She'd only met the Queen twice in her life, and she'd heard this dozens of times from various members of high-class society. 

It seemed that her destiny was all coming together, no matter how much she hated it. 

In the late Autumn, just as the leaves were falling from their branches, a long black car rolled down a long drive. Yesterday was a celebration, the heir to the Hellsing throne had finally come of age. But she knew that in truth, monsters have been stirring. Constant strings of small murders, homicides, assaults. She knew of the darkness in the world and it was time for her to become the sword and shield for the people. Time for her to become the guard dog of the country. She strode past the servants, who bowed to her like she was royalty, and walked through the doors to her new home. 

Distantly, she thought she could hear whispering, but she dismissed it quickly. Eventually, she'd discover the twisting basements below the house. She'd discover her cousin's monsters; the family weapons. But for now, she turned and surveyed the grounds, silent as the first load of trucks peeled into the barracks. She had work to do. 

 

\--

 

By all accounts, this was a disaster. Some self entitled little prick had decided to undermine her authority and take over the situation, simply because she was a young woman. Sexist pigs. Louis had laughed at her once, before respectfully going over to rectify the situation. The Convention of Twelve (Eleven) had tentatively allowed her some minor cases, to test how she and her men would control the incident. This one was going particularly well, until the police officer in charge had begun to relay orders to her men that weren't in fact from their boss. 

They didn't know it, so she couldn't blame them. Luckily for her, her second in command, a Mister Christopher Moore had caught onto the change in orders, and corrected her men. He turned the radio off as the Police Commander had yelled at him to do as he was told. She smiled then; they weren't Hellsing men for no reason. They had some standards. 

Louis came back, along with the Police Commander who tugged at his collar. The Butler stood behind his master, and there was a long silence. The older man was going red, sweat dripping down his forehead as the young woman stared him down. He clenched his fists, and burst in anger. 

"I don't care who you are," He began, and she sat back in her chair. "But I will NOT have some little girl running this operation. My men and I are perfectly capable handling a killer-" 

She leant forward, linking her hands together and stopping his speech dead. Cocking her head slightly, she swallowed. 

"You have three men dead, sixteen injured, four unconscious and two of them have even run away. If the target was a normal killer, then yes, your men probably could have handled this situation." She said coolly. "That being said, the target is not normal; not human, and my men are equipped to handle such a monster. Under orders that are so high up I doubt you could comprehend them," She continued, and her left hand twitched. "I have been placed in charge. Yes; I am only young, and you were probably in the force from before I was born, but you are not to talk down to me because of this. It is my job to protect the innocent from monsters, and I will bloody do so without egotistical pricks like yourself undermining my authority because you think you're more experienced in the matter." 

The man had gone white as her voice rose. 

"You are under my orders for now, so I hope I no longer have to repeat myself. Get your men, out of there, and let my men deal with this." She all but growled. "Am I making myself clear?" She asked, almost sweetly, changing instantly. The Police officer all but quivered and nodded, before making a hasty exit from the room. 

Sighing, she slouched backwards and rubbed her temples. That was better. 

"Get Moore back on the line." She told her butler, and Louis nodded and exited the office. The chair squeaked as she stood up and walked in front of the window. It was raining again. It was always raining. She waited for a moment, then twisted to grab the bottle of water off of her desk. Draining it, she frowned, and then Louis came back in. He passed her the walkie-talkie and then took the empty water bottle, and left again. 

She pressed the button and sighed. 

"Moore?" It gave the little beep to signal that the transmission had cut out from her end. She waited, watching the rain splash against the window. 

"Miss Hellsing?" 

"Give me a report Moore." She commanded, and the static noise blipped. 

"Two men have been taken out of line from injury, ma'am. We've destroyed one of the monsters, but the ghouls are still moving. One room is quite heavily guarded, so we're about to attempt an attack on that area." Considering his report, and shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Orders?" He asked. 

"I trust you to make good decisions on the field, Moore. Stick to that plan, and kill every undead you come into contact with." 

He replied with, 'Yes ma'am' before she placed the device on her desk. She had every faith in him and her men. Something tickled at the back of her mind, and she dismissed the thought that someone was watching her. This house was alive with something, she just couldn't place it. The room illuminated for a moment, then returned to normal. Thunder rumbled in the distance. 

The walkie-talkie beeped with an incoming transmission, but she didn't move. 

"Situation over, ma'am. Vampire dealt with. Only two casualties from Hellsing men." Picking up the device, she struggled to find something to say. "Ma'am?" 

"Return immediately." She said and winced. "Well Done, Captain Moore." She added as an afterthought. His laugh came through the machine. 

"Aye sir, we're on our way." 

Although she'd disagree, she waited at the window until the trucks came into sight and turned into the barracks. As the men were unloading, Moore turned to look at the house. As if he knew she was watching, he waved before turning away. Shaking her head, she exited the office and went to the kitchen. Louis was there, along with some of the cooks. The young master pulled herself onto one of the island seats and rested her head in her arms, exhaling deeply. A weight had been lifted from her shoulders. 

"All okay?" Louis asked, placing a hot drink down in front of her, his gentle American accent cutting through her musings. He'd been born in Austin, Texas, where he'd lived until he was about 23. He'd been part of an organisation that had hailed from Salem. They'd hunted down witches in America for a long while, before becoming hit-men for hire. She wasn't entirely sure of the details, but somewhere he'd made a deal with MI5 to come and work for the British Government. So he moved to England and somehow became her butler. 

"All's well that ends well, I suppose." She replied, drinking. "How are the preparations coming along for the dinner?" She enquired gently, not wanting to seem too demanding in front of her staff. The Convention of Twelve (Eleven) were visiting this evening to survey the house, and she wanted everything to be perfect. 

"We've put together something that should suit all tastes." Was the reply she got from the amused staff. Rolling her eyes, she sipped some more of her drink. Although they were only cooks, or maids, or simple staff, they all knew the risks and dangers of becoming Hellsing staff. Each member was briefed before moving to live in the surrounding houses of the estate. Most of them had houses elsewhere, with wives and husbands and children, but they were always welcome to stay on the estate. 

"Well if everything is alright here then." She drawled, finishing her cup. Louis took it from her immediately and shooed her back upstairs, where she encountered Captain Moore. He looked bashful when she caught him wandering around the hallways, looking a little bit lost. 

"I was coming to give my report ma'am." He explained, and she laughed. He followed her closely, taking extra time to track where they were going. It looked as if he was trying to commit it all to memory. 

"Now," She said, as they entered the office. "Report, Captain Christopher Moore." She commanded, sitting behind her desk. He smirked and began to talk. 

"When first arriving on the scene, the Metropolitan Police were reluctant to allow us to help. It was only once their commanding officer explained that we were allowed on site. At this point, they'd lost twenty-five men and the remaining were tired and scared. We sent them back and began to move forward. Outside the house, there were thirteen ghouls standing guard, and we engaged. It was then, the first vampire joined us. Due to the conflicting orders we were receiving, he injured two of our men before he was staked, and then we moved into the house. Inside, we sent fourteen more ghouls to hell and stormed the 'control room'," He made air quotes as he spoke. "And dispatched the last vampire as well." 

"It's getting worse." She moaned and closed her eyes. Thunder rumbled in the distance. "Too many dead, so many mad." Moore grimaced, but she waved him away. "My apologies Christopher, although the jobs are successful; I feel as though we're always two steps behind. Sometimes-" She glanced up at him, then waved her hand as an afterthought. "Sorry sorry, you're dismissed Christopher." The soldier bowed quickly, before exiting the office. Sighing, she dropped her head back and closing her eyes. Then she jumped and squeaked as Louis burst in. 

"Louis?! Knocking?" She exclaimed, and he shot out an apology. 

"Sir Islands just called ahead. The Round Table will be arriving an hour earlier than originally said." Surging to her feet, she gaped at him and stormed from the room. Her tailor hurried to meet and follow her to her rooms. She began to dress her, and as she stood patiently her mind wandered. Men like them don't accidentally schedule a meeting; they're British after all. They would have planned this, she mused, another test for her to complete. Someone was brushing her hair, plaiting it and wrapping it like a crown around her head. One of the maids - Eloise - applied a soft coat of makeup around her face, and she only blinked after dark mascara was painted on her lashes. 

She would never be put off of feminine things, no matter what the Convention commented. Her gender was not something that would hinder her, certainly not when she had no reason to be corralled into some twisted sense of a masculine image. Her suit was not a statement to define her, rather she enjoyed the crispness of the outfit. In record timing (seriously, did they do nothing but practice dressing someone up?) they had her all done up and ready for the Round Table members to arrive. 

Sometimes, she craved a quiet life; she craved the life that most teenagers detested. 

Another life perhaps. 

She could hear Louis downstairs welcoming people into her home, and she pulled a face to get anything out of her system. Slowly, she moved to stand at the top of the stairs to the entry hall, taking a little bit of pleasure in seeing their impressed faces. Her staff mingled around with small platters of food, offering them politely to the esteemed figures that looked mildly impressed. She grinned in victory. The attention of the room turned to her as she descended the staircase, and Louis came to meet her at the bottom of the stairs. 

"Everything is ready for you to move into the dining hall, ma'am." He said and she nodded thankfully. Turning, she announced that food was served and lead the gentlemen to the mansion's large dining hall. She took the head of the table, obviously, and watched calmly as the Convention of Twelve (with her there, it was twelve) sat down to eat. 

"We've received word that the mission was a success today, Miss Hellsing." Sir Islands began as the starter course was presented. "Although, there was something about a Police Commander?" He inquired, and she smothered the urge to roll her eyes. Women are the ones stereotyped to gossip, but men were honestly just as bad. 

"Would you believe that some men feel the need to take control of every situation that they are privy too?" She commented, nibbling on the food. "He and I shared conflicting views on how the situation should have been handled, I'm afraid. Thought that he was in a position to be giving orders to the Hellsing Soldiers. I merely informed him of his role- well," She paused and shrugged gently. "More the fact that I'd taken over command of the operation. Some people find it difficult to trust when a woman gives orders - haven’t a clue why though." 

The older men ducked their heads slightly, focusing on the food and a silence fell over the gathered group. The plates were taken away and replaced with the main course, and the conversation picked up again. She mainly kept They talked about trivial things for the rest of the evening, and as the staff cleared away the remains of dessert their attention turned to her again. Raising her eyebrows, she straightened her back. 

"Her Majesty The Queen is growing more concerned with the number of vampire-related cases popping up over the country." Sir Langford commented, taking a sip of wine. She peered at him; she liked Langford, he was in his early thirties, the youngest before herself. He never talked down to her, never treated her like a child. Out of all of them, she respected him the most. 

"It is concerning," She agreed, blinking twice. 

"She has ordered us to initiate the true purpose of the Hellsing Organisation; your family's true power. " Sir Thynne told her, and she leant forward. "If you'll allow us, we wish to share the secrets of your predecessor. " 

"Sir Integra?" She questioned carefully, but she knew that it was the obvious answer. Langford nodded and winked. 

"Integra had a weapon, the same weapon Arthur used before her, and many others in your family before him." That peeked her interest. A weapon? What could they have used to combat the monsters of their generation? Something cold raced down her spine and she narrowed her eyes. 

"There is something in this house, isn't there?" She asked quietly, maintaining direct eye contact with Langford. His eyes widened and the table fell deathly silent. So there was a reason that there were no blueprints of the mansion in the library. Islands and Penwood shared a long look. 

"And what makes you think that?" Langford asked, after the silence lasted longer than was comfortable. 

"There was always something wrong here, something that I wasn't being told. I always felt it, felt something, here," She leant forward, putting her hands together and placing her chin in the cradle she created. She loved watching them squirm like this. "So what is it then?" She questioned, taking careful time to look at all of them. Lord Berkeley looked down almost immediately. So they felt guilty? 

"Perhaps," Langford said, leaning back and looking around at the other Knights. "It would be better to show you, Miss Hellsing." There was a pause, and Islands nodded. The men stood and she followed, waving Louis to follow at her back. They led her through the halls of her home, and stopped in the passageway between the kitchens and the Library. There was a floor-to-ceiling mirror in front of them, reflecting the council back at them. Eden stepped forward and ran his hands down the left side, before a soft 'click' was heard and it opened out with a creak. 

Cold, stale air rushed past them, shifting her hair out of her face. Something... else pushed out and she inhaled quickly and blinked, eyes watering. The Knights stepped to the side, creating two lines and allowing her to step up to the doorway. Breathing in through her nose, and stared down the staircase that led into the basement of her home. There was an entire basement? 

"What," She paused, "On Earth?" She stepped forward and looked at the walls to find a light switch or something. From the smell alone, she knew that this area hadn't been touched in a long time, so she doubted that it had seen any of the technological advances the rest of the house had gained since she'd moved in. Sure enough, there was a white switch to her left and she reached a finger to click it. The stairway flooded with light, and she marvelled at how deep it actually went. 

In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again She thought almost fleetingly as she descended, the men following at a slight distance. The hallway went on at the bottom with two dark doors to the left and to the right. At the end of the hallways was a single door, and she could see that it disappeared around the corner in both directions. The Knights joined her and Islands led them to the left-hand room, where he pushed the door open gingerly. 

"This," He began, before descending into a coughing fit due to the dust. "Is Integra's personal collection. She had it moved down here before her death. It is, I suppose, now all yours." She passed him, stepping into the miniature library that had been down here, untouched, for 17 years. All this knowledge, information. She stopped dead. 

"The other two doors." She asked softly. "What is behind them?" Turning to face the Knights, she shivered again as they all stared hard at her. Without a word, they turned, leaving her and Louis down in the secret library. She should've seen them out. She should've - but she didn't. There was knowledge here, things that Integra herself wanted to be kept private. For now, she'd read, and then maybe, just maybe, she'd open the other two doors.


End file.
